Hidden In Front Of You
by QuickestSecret
Summary: A story of secret love, coming out and the unbreakable bond between best friends.
1. Chapter 1

**Be More Chill! :D I fucking** _ **love**_ **this musical. And Boyf Riends, of course ;) So here ya go, a story about the best BMC ship.**

 **I do not own Be More Chill. Otherwise Jeremy would be chasing after Michael.**

 **Without further ado, please enjoy and review!**

* * *

"Second semester!" Michael yelled as I got into his P.T. Cruiser. He grinned, _Buffalo Soldier_ softly playing from the headphones hooked around his neck. "You ready for this?"

"Hell no," I said, shutting the car door. I tossed my bag in the backseat with Michael's and pointed ahead. "Onwards, good sir!"

Michael laughed, pulling out of the driveway and heading toward the school. "That's a mood, right there. So, you remember Rich is bi, right?"

"Yeah." After last year's…uh… _incident_ , Rich had come out as bisexual. Despite him being nicer after the SQUIP's were destroyed, Michael and I found it difficult to befriend him. Even though it had been his SQUIP making him bully us and not his own choice, it had still hurt. A year and a half of torment was hard to forget. "So?"

"Apparently Jake came out as gay a few weeks ago. Rich asked him out Christmas day."

"You're kidding."

"Nope," Michael said, popping the _p_. "I'm actually surprised you haven't heard. Jenna said she got it from Christine the minute Jake said yes."

I felt my heart speed up and quickly switched my gaze to the school bus passing us. "How did Christine know about it so quickly?"

"Christine and Brooke were Rich's wingmen. They were hiding in the bushes when Rich finally got the balls to ring the doorbell." Michael glanced over at me before looking back at the road and turning into the school parking lot. "Actually, I haven't heard anything about you and Christine lately. How're you guys doing?"

I kept my eyes on students entering the school. Greeting each other after a long five weeks away. Girls squealing and hugging each other while guys slapped each other on the back. It was odd, feeling equal amounts of excitement and dread in the air.

Right now, I was definitely feeling the latter.

"Jeremy?" Michael had parked the car without me noticing. He stared at me curiously. "You spaced out a bit there. You okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." I cursed my stutter. Of all the times it has to come out, it has to be when I'm upset or nervous.

Michael narrowed his eyes, suspicious. He knows my tells. "Are you not telling me something?"

"No, honestly, Michael. I'm—I'm fine. Christine and I a-are fine."

I held my breath, praying he would leave it. It had happened a few days ago, but I still didn't understand it at all. As much as I hated keeping Michael in the dark, I just needed some time to figure it out for myself.

Michael studied me for a moment longer, then sighed and leaned back in his seat. "If you're sure." His tone softened. "You know you can tell me anything, though, right? No matter what."

I tried to smile. I think I succeeded. "Yeah, I know. It's a two-player game."

"And we rule at it." Michael said, a grin forming. He opened the door and stepped out of the car. "You coming?" he asked, snatching his bag out of the backseat.

"Y-yeah." After I grabbed my bag, Michael shut the car door and we made our way up to the school.

"We go to the cafeteria first to get our schedules," Michael said, glancing down the hall. "What classes do you want?"

"I know I _don't_ want World History," I replied, inwardly relieved that Michael had let it go for now. "If I sucked at American History last semester, then I'd definitely fuck that up."

"Oof. I just hope I get Computer Science." Michael's eyes glittered with enthusiasm. "I heard you get to create your own website in that class. _My own website, Jeremy!_ " Michael had been into computers for as long as I could remember. You would never guess it by looking at him—red hoodie with patches, always present headphones, almost always a slushie in hand—but Michael was a nerd with all things technological.

I laughed. "Sounds right up your alley."

We reached the cafeteria and split up. I headed toward Mr. Reyes, who handled students A-H, while Michael went to a female teacher I didn't know who had schedules I-P.

"Ah, Mr. Heere," Mr. Reyes said as I approached. "How was your Christmas?"

"It was o—"

"Good, good," Mr. Reyes interrupted, shuffling through papers. "I had the chance to see Hamilton on Christmas Day."

"Really? That sounds ama—"

"But that dream was crushed by my wife, who demanded that Christmas be about family and togetherness and not involve rap battles between our founding fathers." Mr. Reyes sighed pitifully as he handed me my schedule. "I was so close…"

I left him as he stared wistfully into space, singing under his breath. Michael was waiting for me at an empty table, bouncing in his seat, beaming. "Look!" he squealed, shoving his paper in my face. "I got it! _I got it_!"

MELL, MICHAEL GRADE: 12

1st Period: Computer Science 1…Room Z302, Mr. Dixon

2nd Period: Algebra 2…Room B220, Ms. Brewer

3rd Period: World History 1…Room B201, Mrs. Clark

4th Period: English 2…Room B216, Mr. Savarese

LUNCH

5th Period: Chemistry 1…Room C103, Mr. Diorio

6th Period: Gym…Gymnasium, Coach Bauer

7th Period: Free Study

"Michael, that's great!" I said, handing him back his paper. "Congrats, dude."

"Thanks!" Michael was almost vibrating with excitement. He pushed his glasses up his nose and held out a hand. "Let's see yours."

HEERE, JEREMIAH GRADE: 12

1st Period: Algebra 2…Room B205, Ms. Wells

2nd Period: English 2…Room B213, Mr. McCloud

3rd Period: World History…Room B201, Mrs. Clark

4th Period: Art 1…Room D112, Mr. Wyatt

LUNCH

5th Period: Chemistry 1…Room C103, Mr. Diorio

6th Period: Gym…Gymnasium, Coach Bauer

7th Period: Free Study

"Three classes together, plus lunch and the free period," I said, studying my schedule beside Michael's. "Not bad."

"Yeah, you're gonna have some serious help in World History," Michael said, putting an arm over my shoulders. "The day I let you fail that class will be the day I swear off video games. Both of which will never happen."

I chuckled. "Thanks, Michael."

The bell rang, shrill and startling. The volume of the cafeteria swelled as people simultaneously stood and moved toward the doors. Michael and I got up as well and immediately got caught in the human current, pushing us toward our first day of the second semester. We quickly bumped fists before Michael turned right, I to the left. "See you in third period!" Michael yelled. Then he was gone.

It didn't take me too long to find B205. Ms. Wells was a young woman with a long, flowy skirt and a buttoned-up blouse. "Jeremiah Heere?" she asked, holding out a clipboard and a pen.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, taking the pen and checking off my name. "I go by Jeremy, though."

"Okay, then," Ms. Wells made a note and gestured into the classroom. "Sit wherever you feel you can learn best."

"Thanks." I walked into the room. The only people inside was a small, mousy girl sketching idly into a notebook and a tall, bored looking boy with long black hair and a hoodie. I chose a seat in the middle row, near the window and sat down. As time passed, more and more people filled the room. Some were people I knew, others I hadn't seen, or never noticed.

And then Christine walked in.

I felt myself grow rigid in my seat, watching her out of the corner of my eye. Christine glanced around, and her eyes landed on a seat a row up and two columns left from mine. I hastily focused my stare down onto my desk as she moved to it and sat.

After another minute, the bell rang again. Ms. Wells walked in and shut the door. The room quieted. "Good morning, everyone," she said, moving to the whiteboard. "My name is Ms. Wells and I'll be your Algebra 2 teacher. This class will be difficult, but if you pay attention and take notes, you should…"

I couldn't concentrate. My eyes were drawn to Christine. She was just sitting there, listening, but to me, she looked like an angel. My chest began to hurt, and I felt myself revisiting that day.

* * *

" _But—but why?" I stammered, feeling my face grow hot. Tears pricked the back of my eyes, quick and sharp. "Did I do something wrong?"_

 _Christine covered her mouth, eyes going wide. "NO! No, no, no, it's not like that! You've been great, honest."_

" _Then why?" I asked again. Taking one of her hands, I let my thumb trace over her knuckles. "I-I thought you liked me."_

" _I do." Christine took her hand away and I was left with air. "Just…not as a boyfriend."_

" _So this was all just pity, then?" The sadness was slowly draining away and was being replaced by anger. I stood up from the couch, unable to keep still. The tv kept playing the movie softly, the soundtrack to our break up. "You just felt sorry for me?"_

" _Jeremy, please, can you let me explain?" Christine looked at me pleadingly._

 _I rubbed my hands over my face and let out a long breath. "Fine." I sat back down and looked at her expectantly._

 _Christine closed her eyes. "I thought I'd give you a chance. You liked me, so I thought that maybe if I spent a bit more time with you, I'd fall for you as well. But I just…didn't." Her eyes opened, and she gazed at me sadly. "If anything, you're like a brother to me." Christine gave an awkward chuckle. "I guess surviving something like the SQUIP's uprising brings you closer to people quicker."_

" _Not close enough," I mumbled under my breath. But Christine heard me._

" _Well, what do you_ want _me to do?" she demanded. "Keep pretending to love you? That's not fair to either of us, Jeremy, and you know it. Besides, there's someone else who likes you."_

" _What?" I was sure I had heard incorrectly._

" _Someone's had a crush on you for a while, and I'm pretty sure you have a crush on them as well. Don't ask me to say who, that's something you need to realize for yourself." She got up and headed toward the basement stairs. Hand on the banister, she glanced back at me. She didn't seem sad about the break up, or even angry with what I had said. Instead, her eyes held a hopeful flame. "Once you figure it out, I'll be happy to help you get 'em." Christine threw me a confident smirk. "See you around, Jeremy." And she was gone, while I was left with questions that had no answers and tangled feelings._

* * *

BRRRRIIIING.

The bell shocked me out of my head. Students were leaving the classroom, and Ms. Wells was erasing the board, prepping for the next class. I sighed. First day, and I was already missing assignments. _Wonderful_. I grabbed my bag and left the room.

Noise filled the hallway. Gossip, jokes, mild bullying. It was normal, but I felt so out of place in the middle of it. Chloe, Brooke and Jenna leaned up against some lockers, giggling. Rich and Jake walked by me chatting, hands swinging between them. I noticed Dustin take some kid into an empty classroom, and right across the way, Madeline was admiring herself in a mirror inside her locker. All the while, people moved around me in every direction like a whirlpool, yelling at friends and running to class.

I watched no one but saw everyone. Any one of these people could have a crush on me. Well, maybe not Rich or Jake, but that only eliminated two out of hundreds. And apparently, I liked this person as well, which made zero sense, since I was positive I loved Christine.

I sighed, heading to my locker and opening it. This was going to be one hell of a semester.


	2. Chapter 2

**Just a few notes:**

 **I'll be discontinuing HtbH. Sorry to fans of that, but I'm just not feeling Gravity Falls anymore. Once again, sorry.**

 **Starting in a few days, I'm going to bring over my work from here to Wattpad, so I'll be taking some time to do that. First, job: get this chapter up over there.**

 **Last thing, to all the Voltron fans, I'll be starting a Voltron fic straight after I finish this BMC fic. Be on the lookout! :)**

 **And with that, lets jump right in.**

 **Please enjoy and review.**

* * *

"Thanks," I muttered to Ms. Clark as I walked into her classroom. Michael was the first person I spotted, my eyes instinctively landing on him. He had snagged a seat near the back and had an empty one next to him.

He brightened when he saw me coming over. "Jeremy! Computer Science is _amazing_! We got to customize our computers to however we liked, and I managed to find the _best_ profile picture!"

I smiled as I sat down. "Did it happen to be Bob Marley, by any chance?"

"Of course it was Bob Marley!" We laughed. Michael's eyes widened. "Oh, and when I was on the way to Algebra, you will _never_ _believe_ what I found."

I waited. "What did you find?"

Michael winked. "Like I said, you'll never believe it. I have to show you at the free period."

" _Michael_." I punched his arm and he recoiled, chuckling. "No fair."

"All's fair in surprising your best friend." Michael leaned back, arms over his head as he stretched. "Besides, it's only—" he made a show of checking an imaginary watch. "Three and a half hours away."

I groaned playfully. "Ugh, but that'll take _forever_. I wanna know _now_."

"Tough luck, Heere." We were cut off by the door closing with a loud click.

Ms. Clark was a young teacher, looking fresh out of college, with dark curly hair pulled back into a bun and a freckle just above her left eye. She wore a New York Giants sweatshirt over casual jeans and grey sneakers. She looked like a fun and somewhat lenient teacher. _I might actually pass this class_.

"Welcome to World History!" Ms. Clark said, sitting down at her desk. "This'll be my first semester teaching here, so bear with me as I get into the swing of things.

"Now, just a quick question. Who here has teachers who have a) started teaching, b) given out a pop quiz or c)—" She gave a dramatic shudder. " _Assigned homework_." Several people chuckled as almost every hand went up, including mine and Michael's. Ms. Clark clapped her hands and stood up, grabbing slips of paper. "That settles it, then. Since so many of my colleagues seem to be sticks in the mud, we're going to play an ice breaker game instead of starting our first unit."

I grinned. _Definitely passing this class._

Ms. Clark handed out a small piece of paper to everyone. "I want you to quickly write your name. Nothing fancy, just make sure it's legible."

I looked at Michael and he shrugged, bending to dig in his backpack. I pulled a pencil from a small pocket in the side of my bag and scrawled my name in the middle of the paper.

Ms. Clark had moved to the back of the classroom and we all craned our necks to look at her. "So, I want this half of the class—" she gestured to the first three columns on my right. "To take their papers and move back here next to the door." Chairs scraped the floor as people got up and shuffled to the back. Ms. Clark pushed her way past them and strode to the whiteboard. "The other half will come to the front, facing the back."

Rich happened to be in our group, and from glancing around the room, he seemed to be the only other person in this class I knew besides Michael.

Rich gave us a small nod. "Heere. Mell. What's up?"

"Not a lot," I replied. "Do you know what's going on?"

"Nope, but I'm interested." Rich idly swung his arms. "Almost anything that involves teams is fun. Competition, y'know?"

"True."

Once we were all in place, Ms. Clark moved to the middle of the classroom, off to the side. "Everyone ball up your papers." I glanced at Michael. He shrugged, smushing his paper into a tight ball. I did the same, the classroom filled with the sound of crumpling paper.

Ms. Clark smiled. "Good. So, you're probably wondering where I'm going with this, right?" Several people murmured agreements. "Well, we're going to have a quick snowball fight."

"Told you this would be fun," Rich whispered to Michael and me.

"The group by the door is Team One, the group in front of the whiteboard is Team Two. You are allowed to move about the classroom once I say go. If you get hit, go stand by my desk, you're out.

"If one team is completely taken out, the remainder of the other team will go into Sudden Death. No hiding, just open fire on each other. Do _not_ aim for the face, aim for below the neck. If you hit the face, intentional or not, you're disqualified. Got it?"

We all nodded, grinning. Michael looked at me and I shifted, hefting my paper snowball. "Ready to take some people out?"

Michael smirked. "Bet I can get more hits than you."

"You're on."

"Three!" Ms. Clark counted, hand in the air. "Two! One! _Fight!_ "

Immediately, I launched my snowball into the midst of Team One and took cover behind a desk. A couple snowballs flew over my head and I watched them as they bounced against the wall and landed harmlessly next to me. Gathering them, I held them in the crook of my arm and peeked through the legs of the desk.

Most people had the same idea I did, ducking out of sight. A few brave souls lobbed ammo over their cover, risking hand and arm exposure. Red Glasses Girl and Ginger Boy were taken out first, forced to sit down.

My eyes flicked to the snowballs in my arm. I had four. There were three more further away; if I could grab them, I would have enough snowballs to last me awhile. Taking another swift glance, I crawled quickly across the cold, tile floor and paused behind another desk. Check, move, hide. Check, move, hide. After one last round, I had to stop at the last column of desks. My targets were in front of a bookshelf, lying innocently just out of reach.

Heart pumping, I looked around. A good chunk of both teams were taken out, although Team One had two more people than we did—Ponytail Girl and Freckles Girl. I caught sight of Michael on the opposite end of the classroom. He had one snowball in each hand, crouched in a space between a wall and a filing cabinet. I smirked at him when he looked in my direction, showing off my arsenal. Michael stuck his tongue out as retaliation, tossing a snowball over the top of the cabinet.

I returned my attention to the extra ammo. If I was careful, I could swipe all three snowballs at once, and no one would be the wiser.

Cautiously, I crept like a cat, stretching my arm out. Just a little closer…

 _Got 'em!_ I nabbed the snowballs and nearly fell over myself to get behind the bookshelf. Peering out, I saw that it was down to me, Michael and Ponytail Girl from the other team. She was crouched in the center of the room, using the desks around her as cover. I could see her eyes dart back and forth from Michael and me. Everyone was watching with bated breath, waiting to see who would move first.

Suddenly, Michael sprang out from his hiding place and threw a snowball. It hit Ponytail Girl right in the back, and she jumped. "Ah, shit," I heard her mutter as she stood up and left for the back.

And then it was just Michael and me.

"Sudden Death!" Ms. Clark called.

I moved slowly from my little nook, keeping my vision trained on Michael. I smirked when I noticed he only had one snowball. _This is too easy_.

We circled the room, eyes darting from each other's face and hands, searching for a tiny twitch, any sign of immediate fire.

 _Fuck it_. I flung my stash one by one at Michael in rapid succession. Somehow, he dodged them all, scrambling on the floor to pick them up. I whirled around, trying to spot some more ammo, but…there was none.

My heart beat rapidly. I was defenseless. _How do 18 snowballs just up and disappear?!_ Horrified, my head whipped back toward Michael, who had the biggest shit-eating grin I had ever seen. He stuck his hands into his hoodie pockets and my stomach fell. _No._

Snowballs pelted my sides and hands as I tried futilely to ward off the attack. Despite my massive defeat, however, I was laughing. _Trust Michael to pull a stunt like that._

"And that's it, folks!" Ms. Clark said, smiling. "Congratulations to…" She took a moment to consult a piece of paper on her desk. "Michael Mell?" Michael nodded, arms up victoriously. "Congratulations. Everybody grab a paper and head back to your seat."

The class crowded around me as I bent to pick up one of the many paper balls lying at my feet. Michael leaned down in front of me, smirking. "So how many people did you hit?"

I opened my mouth to retort but stopped. I hadn't managed to hit Michael in seven tries, and I never saw if that single shot in the beginning had actually landed. "Zero," I said disappointedly, standing up.

Michael followed me back to our seats. "Really? Well, I hit that one girl and you several times, so I _guess_ I win." He plopped down in his chair, grinning smugly.

I sighed good-naturedly. "So, what do you want? A slushie? A new game? Another tattoo idea?"

Michael winked infuriatingly at me. "I'll think about it."

" _Michaaaaeeeeelll_." I groaned. "First that thing you saw, now this? C'mon, man. Not cool."

He shrugged and turned his attention to Ms. Clark. Reluctantly, I did the same.

"While that was fun, the real reason for the snowball fight was just to mix up the papers. Effective, no?" Ms. Clark smiled. Scattered chuckles answered her. "I did mention that this was an ice breaker game, so here's how we play. In a second, Michael will tell us his name, his favorite subject and one cool fact about himself. Then he will open his paper and tell us whose name is on it. Play will continue to that person, and the next, and on and on. Everyone get it?" We nodded. Ms. Clark turned to Michael. "Take it away, Mr. Mell."

Michael stood up, hands jammed in his hoodie pockets. "So, uh, I'm Michael Mell. My favorite subject is Computer Science. And, ah, one cool fact…." Michael trailed off, staring into space. "One cool fact…" He glanced at Ms. Clark questioningly. "Does it have to be a fact about us, or can it just be an opinion?"

Ms. Clark shrugged. "If you don't think it's going to start World War Classroom, go for it."

Michael beamed. "Bob Marley _rules_." We laughed. Michael grabbed his snowball and carefully pulled it apart. "Kaitlyn Wiles?"

Ponytail Girl jumped up. "That's me!" She turned to Michael. "Nice shot, by the way."

Michael bowed cockily as he sat back down. Kaitlyn giggled. "Well, I'm Kaitlyn Wiles, I love creative writing, and my cool fact is that I have read the entire Harry Potter series at least eight times over." The class hummed interestedly. She unfolded her paper and looked around. "Rich Goranski?"

Rich raised a hand lazily as he stood. "Present."

I leaned over to Michael as Rich introduced himself. "Dude, you are obsessed with Marley."

Michael shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say, the man's a legend."

I snorted quietly as Rich finished up. "...and I've been the same height for almost two years now, doubt that's going to change." He opened his paper. "Angie Lancurt?"

And so it continued. Everyone took their turn, and I'll admit that I zoned out a bit in the middle. I was daydreaming about whatever the hell Michael wanted to show me when I heard my name. "Jeremy Heere?"

It took me a moment to process that I had been called up. Red Glasses Girl was staring at me, as was everyone in the class. "Oh. Oh! Right, sorry."

I stood up hastily, nearly bumping my knee on the desk. Michael snickered and I shot him a look. "Right, so, um, I'm Jeremy Heere. I like art, especially sketching, and, well…" My mind short-circuited. "Um, Apocalypse of the Damned is my favorite video game?"

Ms. Clark nodded appreciatively. "Nice. I play video games too, and it's nice to see someone who's not focused on whatever's hot at the moment."

Relieved, I smiled as the bell rang. "Tomorrow we officially start class! Have a great rest of the day!" Ms. Clark yelled over the noise of people flowing toward the door. Michael and I grabbed our stuff and headed out as well.

"Not a bad class," Michael said, bumping me in the shoulder. "I like her style."

"Yeah."

Michael eyed me, smirking. "You're trying to think about my surprise at free period, aren't you?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Maayybee."

"I'll be generous and say that you won't even last until lunch."

" _Michael_!" I placed my palm on my chest and took a staggered step back. " _Bro_! I am _offended_ by your lack of confidence."

Michael snorted, grinning. "Whatever." He turned left, giving a little mock salute. "See you at lunch."

"I will last!" I shouted after him. People turned to look at me, but I didn't care. "You hear me, Mell? I _will_ make it to the end of the day!" Michael waved to me without turning back.

I went right, shaking my head determinedly. _I_ can _make it. I_ will _make it_.

* * *

"I can't take it anymooooorrreee!" I groaned loudly, slumping onto the cafeteria bench. "I give in, I can't take it!"

Michael barely looked up, taking another bite of sushi. "Called it."

" _Michaaaaeeeellll._ "

"Yes, Jeremy?" I sat up, putting on my best puppy-dog pout.

"Can you show me the surprise _now_?"

Swallowing the last of his sushi, Michael glanced around conspiratorially. "Follow me," he said, gathering his trash and dumping it in the nearest garbage can.

Excitedly, I got up and moved toward the cafeteria door. Michael stopped me, watching a teacher pass, then slipped out the door, I just behind him.

Once out of the cafeteria, Michael took off running down the hall. "Hey!" I exclaimed.

Michael twisted around, jogging backwards. "Catch me if you can!" He spun forward and took off again. Grinning, I sped after him.

We zoomed through the halls, laughing sporadically. Michael would always slow down at a turn, glancing behind to see if I was keeping up. I answered with a smile that would grow bigger with each passing moment.

After about a minute, Michael slowed and stopped in front of a bulletin board with multiple help wanted flyers and a poster about the Spring Formal. "Ta-da!"

I put my hands on my knees, catching my breath between giggles. "Michael, as much as I need money, I don't think I want a job at Piggly-Wiggly."

"Not _that_! _This_!"

I glanced up at where he was pointing.

APOCALYPSE OF THE DAMNED

TOURNAMENT SIGN-UP

"Well? What d'ya think?" Michael's eyes were shining behind his glasses, bright with excitement and hope. I smiled at the sight.

"Oh, _hell_ yes."


	3. Chapter 3

**If you read the version posted on Wattpad, there is an original drawing of my OC Bobby Towers, who makes his debut in this chapter. Next chapter will feature a drawing of Kaitlyn Wiles, who is also an OC of mine.**

 **Please enjoy and review!**

* * *

Next Monday after hastily signing up for the Apocalypse of the Damned tournament, Michael and I headed to GameMania! after school. The tournament hosts had emailed every contestant, saying that if there was more than one team in a district, there would be a preliminary round to take place in that district's local arcade. The winners of that mini competition would go to Hilton Head Island, where the main contest was being held. I knew Michael and I were good, but I couldn't help wondering as Michael drove us to the arcade: who else around here played and loved AotD enough to enter a competition?

"Hey, Michael, Jeremy!" Bobby moved out from behind the register as Michael and I walked into GameMania!. The arcade was fairly empty, save for a few kids near the Pac-Man machine. "Good to see you guys! How's high school treatin' ya?"

Bobby was a college student at the local university. He worked part-time at GameMania! and often did his homework while manning the register.

"The semester only just started, but so far so good," I said as I took a glance at the counter. "Got an exam coming up?" Textbooks and random papers were scattered haphazardly all over the glass surface.

Bobby sighed and brushed some of his curly hair away from his face. "Unfortunately. We're not even a week back, but Professor Greckle wants us to take a pretest on the new material. Which everyone knows is teacher code for 'how much do the little shits remember?'" We laughed at Bobby's impression of his professor. "Anyway, what can I do for you guys?"

Michael leaned against the counter and grinned. "We're here for the AotD preliminary round.".

Bobby's eyebrows raised. "Oh, so _you're_ the second team?" He stared off into space for a second, then _hmphed_. "Dunno why I'm surprised 'bout that."

"The others are already here?" My stomach flipped.

"Yup. C'mon, they're in the staff room." Bobby took a set of keys off a hook behind the register and led us to the back of the arcade. "Gotta say, you guys might have some actual competition."

My mouth felt dry. Michael glanced at me concernedly. "You okay, Jer?"

I nodded. "Just pre-game jitters." _Pull it together, Heere. Preferably before you start stuttering._

With a dull jangle of keys, Bobby unlocked the staff room door and led us inside.

Black walls and stiff, dark blue carpet mirrored the arcade outside. A small wooden table sat in the corner, coffee rings dotting its surface. Mediocre foldable chairs were set up in front of a small television. In one of the chairs sat Ponytail Girl— _Kaitlyn_ , I reminded myself. She was furiously button-mashing, her avatar throwing everything it had at the onslaught of zombies. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough and she died. " _Noooooo_. No. I won't accept defeat. Not when I was that close!" She slumped, arm flopping over her face, controller still in hand.

The other person giggled, the fluorescent lighting glinting off her dark hair. " _When you try your best but you don't suceeeeed..._ "

My heart stopped. _So much for pulling it together_.

Kaitlyn shoved Christine, the pair laughing. "Shut up."

"Hey, ladies," Bobby said, twirling the key ring around his finger. "Your competition's here."

"Finally!" Kaitlyn launched herself off the chair, whirling around as she did so. Christine turned in her chair, her face morphing from curiosity, to astonishment, to excitement.

"I'll go get the challenge instructions." Bobby left.

Michael nudged me. "You okay playing against your girlfriend?" he asked quietly.

"Mhm." I didn't dare open my mouth for fear of what would come out. _Shit, shit, shit, shit_...

Kaitlyn came over to us, grinning. "Michael and Jeremy, right? From World History?"

"Yeah." Michael nodded, speaking for both of us. "I didn't know you and Christine knew each other."

"We didn't! We were just put together as partners in drama class, and boof! Instant friendship!" Kaitlyn bounced on the balls of her feet. "It was Christine's idea to sign up for the tournament, actually."

"I remember you talked about playing AotD with Michael a lot, Jeremy." I nearly jumped out of my skin as Christine spoke up beside me. I didn't even see her leave her seat. "I thought it sounded fun, so Kaitlyn and I decided to give the tournament a shot."

"We've been practicing for the past two days, and it turns out this firecracker is incredible!" Kaitlyn's eyes shone with competitiveness. "If you're inclined to go easy against your girl, Jeremy, I wouldn't advise it. She's got tricks up her sleeve." Christine gave Kaitlyn an odd glance, but said nothing.

"Okay, the moderator is back!" Bobby said, entering with a packet of paper. "Everyone head on over to the television and we'll get this show on the road."

 _Thank God. A distraction._ My palms were sweating, and I'm pretty sure my face had started to turn slightly red. Michael and I grabbed some chairs and sat behind the girls as Bobby flipped through the packet and started to read. "Each team will select one player to compete. The players will play AotD per normal. After a player has died, their zombie counter is their final score. There is no respawn, and players are not allowed to kill each other. Whichever player has the highest zombie count will move on in the competition with their team." Bobby lowered the packet. "Everyone understand?"

We nodded.

"Then, children," Bobby said, deepening his voice and raising his arms as if he were summoning. " _Choose your champion!_ "

The girls immediately turned to each other, discussing in hushed voices. Michael looked at me thoughtfully. "I think we're just about evenly matched," he said. "So, do you want to rock paper scissors for it?"

I shook my head, my mind having been made up when Bobby said only one of us would compete. "You play."

"What?"

"Don't give me the _evenly matched_ bullshit," I said, my nerves softening as I finally looked Michael in the eyes. "You're better than me and we both know it. You're going to play and you're going to get us to the next round." I held up my hand as Michael opened his mouth. "Yeah, I'm sure. Besides, I can tell you want to."

Michael chewed on his bottom lip as he studied me. Then he smiled. "Thanks, Jer."

"'Course. Give 'em hell for me."

"You boys made your decision yet?" Bobby called. Kaitlyn and Christine were on either side of him, grinning.

Michael nodded, standing up. "I'll be playing."

"Better be prepared to lose, then," Christine said, stepping forward. "You'll be going against me."

* * *

Kaitlyn and I had been kicked out of the staff room. The rules had mandated that the player's teammates weren't allowed in the same area while they were playing, so that left the two of us wandering the arcade while Bobby refereed the match. We eventually ended up back at the register.

"So, uh..." Kaitlyn heaved herself up onto the counter, moving some of Bobby's papers. "I know you're not really Christine's boyfriend."

I had to do a double take when I heard that. "Wh—how?"

"I asked if she was seeing anyone. She told me that she had just broken up with a guy named Jeremy." She shrugged, her legs kicking and thumping lightly against the glass. "I put two and two together."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

A moment of silence passed before something else clicked in my head. "Wait, so if you know Christine and I broke up, why did you call her 'my girl'?" I made air quotes.

"Because I heard Michael call her 'your girlfriend'." Kaitlyn used air quotes right back at me. "And from what Christine told me about you, you and Michael are _super_ close."

"He's my best friend."

"Exactly. So, I figured that if you didn't tell him, it must've been for a good reason and you plan to tell him later. I'm not gonna step on your toes."

"Huh." I mulled it over, pulling myself up to sit next to her. "Thanks."

"Yeah, sure. So." Kaitlyn swung her legs up onto the counter, using the momentum to spin toward me. She folded them criss-cross and planted her hands on her knees, leaning forward. "Why _haven't_ you told him?"

"What?"

"Like I said, you must've had a good reason not to tell Michael. Spill."

I felt heat creeping up my face. "Um..."

Kaitlyn smiled. "I'm not going to let it slip to anyone. I promise."

After a moment, I sighed, relenting. "Christine told me that someone else has a crush on me, and _apparently_ I like this person, too."

Kaitlyn hummed. "Any idea who it is?"

"Not a damn clue."

"That sucks." A beat of silence. "Was Christine upset when she broke it off?"

"Uh...no," I said, caught off-guard. "She said that she actually thinks of me more like a brother than a boyfriend. Which is cool, I guess."

"But you want it to be more?"

"Well, I want her to be happy more than anything," I explained. "I mean, yeah, I wish she hadn't broken up with me, but if I had known I wasn't making her happy, then I probably would have broken it off myself." I shrugged, gazing down at my knees. "Christine also told me that when I figured out who I had a crush on, she'd be happy to help me out. I'm just glad she still wants to be in my life. I'll take her anyway I can."

A heavy weight crashed into my side, almost knocking the air from my lungs. Kaitlyn had latched onto me, hugging tightly. "You, Jeremy Heere, are the _definition_ of a pure cinnamon roll." She looked up at me, grinning. "And that's a compliment."

"Thanks. I think," I said, half laughing as I patted her on the back.

Kaitlyn chuckled as she let go and lay flat on her back, legs swinging idly while her head hung over the edge. "Okay, so since we basically just had a heart to heart, I feel like I should tell you something about myself."

I leaned back on my hands. "Sure, go for it."

Kaitlyn took a deep breath. "I'mbisexual."

I blinked. "What?"

"I'm bisexual," she repeated, slower. "I asked Christine if she was in a relationship 'cause I wanted to ask her out."

"Oh." I processed the information, my brain taking a second to catch up. "Oh."

Kaitlyn sat up, watching me carefully. "You're not, like, homophobic or anything, right?"

"Huh? No, oh, no!" I said quickly. "I just wasn't expecting a coming out speech."

Kaitlyn relaxed a bit. "And you're okay with me liking Christine?"

"Of course," I said, bumping her shoulder. "Just don't hurt her. She doesn't deserve that."

"I know, and that's the last thing I want for her." She smiled, relieved. "You know this makes us friends, now, right? You shared shit about yourself, I shared shit about myself, so now we're friends."

I grinned. "Doesn't mean I won't do a victory dance when Michael comes out the winner."

"Please. Christine is a master! I have complete faith in her skills."

* * *

"A _tie_?" I stared at a sheepish Michael and Christine, slack-jawed.

Kaitlyn was equally baffled. "How in the hell did it end in a _tie_?"

"I don't know!" Michael burst out. "Christine died first, so I was trying to catch up to her score, then _I_ died, looked at the zombie counter and it was a tie!"

"Bobby's calling the tournament officials now," Christine added. "But I think Michael and Jeremy should move on."

" _What?!_ " the three of us exclaimed.

Christine wrung her hands, concern written all over her face. "Michael lasted longer, so it makes sense, right?"

"Hey, guys." Bobby had returned. "Just got off the phone with the judges. All of you are moving forward."

Michael's eyes widened behind his glasses. "How, though? I thought it was a two-player team event!"

Bobby shrugged. "The deal is you guys will rotate out playing. Christine and Kaitlyn will compete, then Jeremy and Michael, so on and so on. If one team is eliminated, the other will continue on in the rest of the tournament, so you don't affect each other's chances. If by some miracle you _both_ make it to the finale, then you will play against each other."

We all glanced at one another. "So, we're basically one big team...that doesn't play like a team," I said slowly.

Bobby nodded. "Yep."

"Well, at least none of us are out," Kaitlyn spoke up. "Not yet, anyway."

"The competition is in Hilton Head, though," Christine said. "How would we all get down there?"

"Jeremy and I were planning to drive down ourselves and call our parents when we get there," Michael said. "We'd offer you guys a ride, but I don't think all of us, plus our luggage would fit in my car."

"I'd be more than happy to give you guys a lift," Bobby said.

Christine's brow furrowed. "Are you sure, Bobby?"

"Yeah, why not? There's more than enough room in my minivan. Besides—" Bobby smirked. "I'm invested now. I wanna see how this _plays out_ , so to speak."

Christine, Kaitlyn and I groaned good-naturedly at Bobby's pun while Michael gave a thumbs up, grinning. "Then it's settled. Christine, Kaitlyn, think you guys can be ready by tomorrow?"

* * *

" _That_ was a curveball," Michael sighed, shifting in the driver's seat as he pulled out of the GameMania! parking lot.

"No shit." I leaned my head against the window, closing my eyes and letting the tension drain out of me. Talking about Christine and Michael had left me feeling both anxious and relaxed, like a weight had been taken off my back, but another added to my arms.

"Hey, what did Kaitlyn say to you?" Michael asked after about ten minutes of silence, taking the left toward my neighborhood.

"Um..."

 _"Tell him." Kaitlyn's steel blue eyes burned into mine, so different from Christine's dark brown ones. She had caught me by the arm and dragged me back a fraction just after exiting GameMania. Michael had given me an odd look, but went to start up his car. "It's completely your choice, but you should tell Michael. He shouldn't be left in the dark. He doesn't deserve that."_

 _"I—"_

 _"Trust me." It was odd, seeing blue fire. But that's what I saw in Kaitlyn's eyes, shining bright and fierce. "It'll be better in the long run."_

 _She let me go with a meaningful look, then trotted after Christine. The girls grabbed the bikes that were leaning against the building, and sped off._

"Nothing." Discontent settled in my stomach. "It didn't matter."

"M'kay." Michael slowed to a stop in front of my house. "Pick you up tomorrow at around eight?"

The pit that had been gnawing in my stomach suddenly spit out butterflies, flapping wildly and tickling my sides. If only the words had held a different meaning, perhaps not for a rendezvous with friends, but something more personal, more intimate...

 _Shut up, Heere. This is Michael._ Mi-chael. _Your best friend. Your brain is just in overdrive_. _You're overreacting._

"Yeah, sure." I opened the car door and stepped out, but something stopped me from closing it. Kaitlyn's words floated back to me. _Tell him. He doesn't deserve being left in the dark._

I spun, moving completely on a whim. "Christine and I broke up."

Michael barely blinked. "I figured."

"Wait, you already know?"

"Well, now I do." Michael rested his arm on the steering wheel as he turned halfway to face me. "I thought something was up when you and Christine didn't hug when you first saw each other. Then when we took a water break in the middle of the match, I asked how and her were doing and she changed topics without answering. But, you okay, man? With the break up?"

The butterflies quieted, finding random perches to land on and lazily open and close their wings. "Yeah. Kaitlyn and I talked while you two were playing. I'm good."

Something crossed Michael's face. He smiled, but it looked a tad forced. "Good, then. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," I said quickly. I closed the car door and began the walk up the front path. I hadn't taken more than two steps when the PT Cruiser drove off. I frowned, confused. _Had I said something wrong?_

The thoughts stayed in my mind as I entered my house and had a small, mediocre parent/son conversation with my dad. But I shook my head as I went into my room, grabbing a small suitcase from the hall closet. I had to pack for Hilton Head. I had to focus on the challenges ahead.

 _It's game time._


	4. Chapter 4

****Yes, I'm also working on Ready For The Future at the same time I'm writing this. And another fanfic idea. And Miraculous. And a personal project.****

 ** **Don't judge me.****

 **If you head on over to my Wattpad account-same username-you'll see the sketch I made of my second OC in this fic, Kaitlyn Wiles. She'll be important.**

 ** **I hope I wrote Jeremy's dad okay. This'll probably be his only appearance aside from phone calls.****

 ** **Last thing, I swear I didn't intend to make this a slight Dragon Prince crossover. I had always meant to use characters from other musicals as the other competitors, but well, season three happened. I had to, guys. I fell down the hole. This won't be classified as an official crossover, but yeah, you'll see these guys a tad more than the other competitors.****

 ** **Anyway, as always, please enjoy and review!****

* * *

I walked into the kitchen, still sluggish after just waking up. It was 6:30 am, and officially the earliest I had ever woken up, the record previously being 7:30 am for school. But it was a twelve hour drive to the competition, and Michael felt more comfortable behind the wheel when it was light out.

Dad was sitting at the table, a mug of coffee in one hand, bathrobe partially open. He didn't leave for work for another hour, so we had some time together, a rare happenstance in the morning. "Mornin' son."

"Mm." I opened the fridge, looking for a yogurt. "Michael's coming by in 'bout half an hour to pick me up for the competition. I'm already packed."

"Good, that's good." Dad watched me gently kick the fridge shut as I turned around to get a spoon. "You know to call me once you arrive on Hilton Head, right?"

"Yeah, uh-huh." I took a seat at the table and dug into the vanilla yogurt I had found. "I'll call once we enter the town. Michael'l probably call his moms when we find our hotel and meet up with the girls."

"Good," Dad said again, repeating himself. "Okay, then."

We sat in silence for a bit, the only sound being the dull thunk of the spoon against the plastic yogurt cup. I was almost finished when Dad spoke up again. "You understand that even though Christine is rooming with you, you're not allowed to go to…certain lengths, with her?"

I nearly choked, yogurt spraying. "Ugk, agk—Dad, _no_! Christine and I broke up, remember?"

"Oh, that's right," Dad mused. "My mistake."

My face burned, and I pushed my yogurt away, my appetite gone. "Besides, Michael and Kaitlyn are rooming with us. Even if we hadn't broken up, do you _really_ think I would've tried something with them there?"

"All right, all right, I get it." Dad stood up, making his way over to the sink to rinse his finished mug. "Sorry."

"It's fine," I mumbled, getting up as well. I threw my yogurt cup in the trash and joined Dad at the sink to dump my spoon. "I'm going to go get dressed. I'll let you know when I'm leaving."

"'Kay."

The thought hit me when I shut the door to my room. _Why was I so angry?_ If anyone had insinuated… _that_ …happening between Christine and I before we broke up, I probably would've flushed nine shades of red on the spot and stumbled my way through basic sentences while grinning nervously. But down there, I felt almost…not disgusted, no, but _offended_.

Why in the hell would I be _offended_ at the thought of having sex with Christine? I rubbed my face as I sat down on my bed, mind whirling like a tornado. _It's not like Dad had mentioned me doing it with Kaitlyn, or Michael—_

The second Michael popped into my head, the butterflies that had lain dormant since last night took flight again. I felt my face heating up again, but in a more pleasant way, warm and bringing about a feeling of giddiness.

I shook my head, standing up and heading over to my closet. I needed to stop thinking like this. I mean, it's Michael, for God's sake! If I don't like Christine in that way anymore, I can accept that, but Michael is my _best friend_. That's _all_ he is.

"You know what?" I said aloud to myself. "I'm overreacting. Christine freaked me out with that talk about me having a mutual crush on someone else, and I'm projecting onto Michael." I nodded, satisfied with my own logic. "Yeah, that's all it is."

Silence overtook the room again as I got dressed. After taking a quick pit stop in the bathroom to make sure my face had returned to normal, I grabbed my suitcase from my bedside and headed downstairs again.

I was sitting on the living room couch scrolling through Tumblr on my phone when Michael texted that he was outside. "Dad, I'm leaving!" I yelled, sticking my phone in my pocket and scrambling for the handle of my suitcase.

"Wait wait wait!" Dad hopped out of his room, tugging his pants up. "Hold on…a sec…" He finally settled, hands on his hips as he looked at me. "I'm proud of you, you know."

I smiled. "Yeah, I know." A faint car horn sounded. I chuckled. "I gotta go, Michael's getting impatient."

Dad nodded, grinning. "Good luck."

I returned the nod, walking over to the front door. I opened it and stepped out. "Thanks. Call you later. Bye, Dad."

I shut the door and took a deep breath, holding it for a moment. _Remember. You were overreacting. You're fine._ Letting out the air in one quick blow, I ran down the front path to the PT Cruiser. Michael was leaning against his car, glasses glinting in the weak morning sunlight. When he caught sight of me, though, nothing disguised the way his face split into a bright grin, eyes sparkling as he pushed himself off the car to meet me halfway. I felt my neck warming again at the mere sight and sighed internally. _This is gonna be a regular thing until I calm down, isn't it?_

"Dude, I'm so psyched!" Michael exclaimed when he reached me. He reached down and grabbed my suitcase. "Here, I'll put this in the back with my stuff."

"Thanks. I think I'm still half-asleep," I joked, walking beside him. "So, what's the plan? You drive the first half and I'll take over the rest of the way?"

"Sounds good!" Michael cracked open the trunk and heaved my suitcase in on top of his. "Bobby called me a few minutes ago before I pulled up, by the way. He and the girls are already on the highway, so they should be there when we arrive."

"Cool." Michael shut the trunk with a slam and we both headed around to the front of the car. Jumping into the passenger seat, I fastened my seatbelt with a quiet _click_. "So do you know anything about Hilton Head?"

Michael fastened his own seatbelt and started the car. "Other than it's an island in South Carolina and the AotD tournament is happening in it's high school? No."

"Good, 'cause I don't know anything either." We laughed as Michael turned out of my neighborhood and onto the road. "I know there's palm trees, but not much else."

"Let's look it up, figure out the place," Michael said. He gestured to my pants pocket with his free hand. "C'mon, get that phone out, let's get some _knowledge_!" He ended with a weird vocal guitar twang.

"Oh my God," I groaned, half-laughing even as I dug my phone out and powered it on. "Why, Michael? Why must you subject me to this cringiness?"

"Easy, 'cause you're my…" Michael leaned over to me as much as he could without losing sight of the road. " _Favwite pewson_!"

I felt my heart nearly jump out of my chest. Seriously, it was pumping along like normal, then Michael had to look all cute and call me his favwite pewson—not his favorite person, his _favwite pewson_ —and then _B-BUMP B-BUMP B-BUMP_ , my heart goes off like a racer at the sound of the starting shot.

 _Wait. Did I just call Michael cute?_

I snorted, feeling the heat creep up my neck, as it seemed to do much too often lately. "Shut up," I say awkwardly, placing a hand in Michael's hair and shoving him back toward his own seat. Michael took no offense, merely chuckling as he took a right. _Damn you, Christine, you're making me way too paranoid._

Opening Safari on my phone, I type in 'facts about hilton head island'. "All right, let's see what we can find."

* * *

"Whoa, Hilton Head has over 250 restaurants!" I exclaimed. Michael and I had been on the road for over five hours. We had been switching on and off from road trip games to researching Hilton Head. It turns out that the little barrier island is actually pretty cool. Michael and I had already made a pact to try and walk the nature trail on the neighboring Pinckney Island on one of our free days. And now… "At least we know we'll never go hungry."

"Sweet." Michael checked his GPS. "Hey, Jer, the rest stop is coming up. Get ready to trade."

"Yeah, man, no problem." I shut off my phone and slipped it into the cupholder. "Where exactly are we, anyway?"

Michael grinned at me as he took an exit. "Welcome to Williamsburg, Virginia!"

"Oh, is this the colonial place?"

"Yup!" Michael sighed wistfully. "I wish we could check out the town and stay the night. Apparently they do ghost tours, which sounds pretty fucking cool."

"Yeah, it does," I replied. "Maybe we do that on our way back?"

"Oh hell yes, please."

After a few minutes, Michael found the rest stop; a small, one-story brick building, probably filled with tour guides and pamphlets about the wonders of Williamsburg. Oak trees surrounded the area and gave it a cozy, warm feeling, though it was cold, being January. We parked and got out. I relished the feeling of being able to move my legs fully, and took full benefit of stretching my stiff limbs.

"I'mma head to the restroom!" Michael called, walking backwards toward the building. "You mind grabbing snacks out of my bag in the back?"

I gave a thumbs up as I walked around the car. Michael returned it, turned and headed in. Rubbing my face, I sighed. Despite having been wide-awake for a good while, moving around made me feel sluggish, like every bit of energy I had saved up was going into movement.

Popping the trunk, I dug through Michael's bag and got ahold of the soda and chips. I smiled as I saw what he had packed. _Lays barbecue. YES._

I closed the boot, turned to head to the driver's side of the car and almost jumped out of my skin. A large dog was sitting calmly behind me, tail wagging ever so slightly. A smooth white coat, with bright blue eyes, it looked to be a husky mixed with…something else, I don't really know that many dog breeds.

The dog and I stared at each other. "Um," I said quietly, feeling awkward. "Hey there?" The dog cocked its head to the side, tongue lolling, panting. "Hey. Do you...do you have an owner?"

The dog didn't answer. Of course. I bent down slowly, but the dog didn't scare. It seemed remarkably calm, watching me curiously. I caught sight of a tag beneath the fur, catching the sunlight. _Zym_. "Zym?" I said cautiously. The dog instantly stood up, tail wagging faster. I stood up too, startled by the sudden movement. "Okay, so you do have a name."

"What's up?" I whirled around as Michael snuck up behind me. Zym barked. Michael stared at my new friend. "Where the fuck did you come from?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," I said, getting on my knees again. This time, Zym came right up to me and flopped on my lap. "Hey, bud, where's your owner?" Zym whined and rolled onto his back. I chuckled as I began to scratch his belly. "You have no shame, do you?"

"Zym!" Michael and I looked up as a kid ran toward us. He wore a bright red hoodie with decals that looked almost golden, and brown jeans. His dark brown hair curled up into a cloud atop his head, and freckles dotted his dark face. He looked like he couldn't be older than nine or ten.

Zym barked and bounded over to the kid, winding around his legs and almost knocking him over. Despite trying to scold his pet, the kid was half-laughing at the display. "Zym, you can't run away like that!"

 _BARK!_

"We have treats in the car, you don't have to bother these nice people!" The kid finally glanced over at us. "I'm sorry for Zym. He bolted once the car door opened and we've been looking for him since."

"It's okay," I said, smiling. "He's a sweet dog. Very polite."

"I just got here, but yeah, he seems nice," Michael said. "Very cute."

"Really?" The kid looked skeptical. He looked down at Zym. "You didn't try to get their snacks? You behaved yourself?"

Zym thumped his rear onto the concrete and gazed at the kid with pleading eyes. The kid sighed good-naturedly as he rubbed Zym's head affectionately. "Fine, I believe you. Can't really stay mad at you, anyway." He turned behind him and yelled out to the vicinity. "Callum! Rayla! I got Zym!" He turned back to us and held out his hand. "I'm Ezran, by the way."

I shook his hand, hiding a grin. "Jeremy."

Michael introduced himself just as two older kids caught up to us. The boy—presumably Callum—had a denim jacket over a red-brown shirt, a red scarf beaming like a beacon. A satchel thumped at his side, and he had the sort of face that made you sure it held a kind smile often. The girl—Rayla, did Ezran say?—had shock-white hair and a gray tank-top under a green and black unzipped sweatshirt over army pants and combat boots. She looked like the kind of girl who could flip me face-first onto the ground in two seconds flat without any effort.

"Thank God," Callum said, scratching Zym behind the ears. "Thanks for finding him," he said to Michael and I.

"Well, it was more like he found me," I replied. "I was getting snacks, then _boom_ , this guy was stalking me."

Callum laughed. "He probably just smelled your food and got ideas. He didn't lie down on you, did he?"

"Hey, yeah, he did!" I pointed an accusatory finger at Zym. "You _were_ trying to get at the snacks!"

Zym barked and ran off, jumping into a sky-blue Honda Accord across the parking lot. Ezran shook his head, giggling. "Shameless."

"That's what I said!"

"Alright, so we got Zym," Rayla said. She had a sort of Scottish accent, a pleasing lilt to her voice. "We've got at least six more hours until Hilton Head, so…" She jerked her head towards the car. "Shall we?"

"Wait, you're going to Hilton Head Island?" Michael asked.

"Yeah!" Ezran said. "Callum and Rayla are in a video game tournament and Zym, Bait and I are their support squad!"

Michael put an arm around my shoulders, smiling. "Well, it's always nice to meet competition. That's where we're going, too." I willed my face to stay cool and awkwardly crossed my arms. Michael glanced between the friends. "Hope you guys aren't afraid of losing."

"Losin'?" Rayla blew a raspberry at us. "Fat chance! I don't lose."

"I should know, I've lost to her many times," Callum jumped in. He glanced at Rayla, smiling shiftily. "Although there was that one time…"

"Oh, bug off," Rayla muttered, shoving him.

Callum laughed, bouncing back to her and catching her in a hug. "You know you love me," he teased.

Ezran threw up his hands. "Nope! I'm out!" He waved at us. "See you guys in Hilton Head!" Much like Zym, he took off and leapt into the car.

Rayla laughed, squeezing Callum briefly before letting him go. "Messing with him is way too fun. Well, we got to get goin' anyway. Michael, Jeremy." She tipped an imaginary hat at us. "Pleasure meetin' you, and good luck to you."

"Right back at ya," Michael said, giving an over-the-top bow. Rayla rolled her eyes, smiling as she turned and went for the car.

"See you guys on island!" Callum said, walking backwards. I saluted mockingly and he grinned before catching up with his apparent girlfriend.

Michael and I got back into our own car, this time with me in the driver's seat. I pulled out of the parking space and we waved one last time to our competition before leaving the rest stop. Silence reigned over the car, save for the occasional crunch of chips.

We were on the road for a few minutes before Michael spoke up. "So, we can take them, right?"

"Oh, totally."


	5. Chapter 5

****Yeet yoot, new chapter! Sorry it's so short. As always, please enjoy and review!****

* * *

"Oop, found 'em," Michael said, pointing at Christine and Kaitlyn waving wildly at us in front of the villa. I pulled into an empty parking space and turned off the ignition as Michael unbuckled and got out to meet the girls.

The event organizers had arranged for the competitors to stay in a vacation resort. It was fairly close to the local high school, where the competition would take place. Each team got their own room in the same condo, and we were free to explore the island on our days off. Since Bobby technically wasn't part of the competition, or a minor, he had to stay in a hotel just north of where we were.

I left the car and went around to the trunk to get my suitcase. Kaitlyn broke away from the small group and followed. "Hey, how was the drive?"

"Pretty okay," I said, lifting my suitcase out. "We actually met some competition at the rest stop in Williamsburg."

"Yeah, the couple and the kid. Michael told us." Kaitlyn grinned. "I kinda want to meet this Rayla girl. She sounds spunky."

I chuckled. "She's definitely got a competitive streak, from what we saw."

"Hey!" Michael popped round the side of the car, startling me and almost making me drop my luggage. "Christine has our room key, if you wanna head up. I'll grab my stuff and meet you there."

"Yeah, sure." I glanced at Kaitlyn. "You coming?"

"I think I'll stay and keep Michael company. But a quick word of advice: don't sit on the chairs on the balcony." She shuddered. "Pollen."

I gave a thumbs up, then hefted my luggage and started walking. Christine waited for me on the sidewalk. "Hi." She smiled.

"Hey." Christine turned and started walking with me, heading for the elevator. "So, which floor are we on?"

"The third. We have a pretty nice view over the pool, actually." Christine reached the elevator ahead of me and punched the up button.

"Gotcha." The doors slid open and we stepped inside, the wheels of my suitcase clacking over the threshold. It occurred to me that this was the first time I had been alone with Christine since we broke up.

 _Shit._

I snuck a peek at Christine as she pressed the button for the third floor. She didn't seem to be in any discomfort, even smiling a little. She was at ease, completely sure of what she was doing and who she was. Unlike me, with my screaming head and quickly beating heart.

"Have you figured it out yet?" It took me a second to register that, despite being the only other person around, Christine was talking to me.

"Figured wh—oh." I shook my head. "No, no I haven't."

"Really?"

"Nope." I squinted at her. "You seem surprised."

"Kind of, yeah." The doors opened with a bing and we left the elevator. "I mean, everyone's pretty much already guessed it at this point, I thought it would've been obvious after a day or two. We're going right." She led me down the corridor, the breeze blowing her hair to the side, like a black veil.

"Wait, so _everyone_ knows?"

"Yeah, Rich, Jake, Brooke, Kaitlyn—probably Bobby at this point..."

"Does Michael know?"

Christine paused. "Um. I think he knows who has a crush on you, but I don't think he knows you like them back." She stopped in front of door 3490. "Here's your room."

" _I_ didn't even know I liked someone until you...told...whoa." I trailed off as Christine swiped the room key and opened the door. The room was large, with wine-red walls and forest-green carpeting. A couch and several armchairs took up the living room space, along with a dining table and chairs, a shelving area, and a flatscreen T.V. mounted on the wall. I saw a mini-kitchen to my left, a door on one side of the T.V., and a door by the couch on the opposite wall. Rich, orange evening light streamed in from the large window by the door leading to the balcony. "Holy shit."

"Pretty nice, huh?" I turned to see Christine leaning against the door frame, grinning. She pushed off and strode inside. "Kaitlyn and I are right beside you in 3489. Since we're a special case, the organizers gave us connecting rooms." Twisting the knob, Christine opened the door by the couch and I saw a practically mirrored version of Michael and I's living room.

I heard a gasp from behind me as Michael came in, along with a giggling Kaitlyn. "This is huge!"

"I know, right?!" I parked my suitcase by the coffee table and flopped onto the yellow couch. "God, it's so comfy, too!"

"Really? C'mon, get up, I want to try." Michael dropped his bag onto the floor by the door and came over to me.

I wiggled around on the couch mockingly, shifting and messing up the cushions. "Nope, I'm too comfortable now. Don't think I'll move for a while."

"Jeremyyyyy."

I smiled, trying to contain my laughter as I tucked one arm behind my head and let the other loll off to the side. "My couch now."

"Duu-uu-ude!" Michael was chuckling now.

I closed my eyes. "Might just take a nap, driving that last leg made me tirHU _EFF_!" A large weight crashed on top of me, scrabbling and wrestling. My eyes flashed open to see Micheal fighting for my hands, and I immediately started to retaliate. "Mic—jeez— _gack_!"

"Surrender!"

"Never! The couch shall be Jes _US GAHAHAHAH_!" Michael started tickling my sides, and I had to fight the urge to squirm and clamp my arms down.

"Right, so we're gonna go..." Christine said, but she may as well have been underwater. I barely registered the closing of the girl's door before Michael grabbed my waist and tossed me gently onto the floor.

I panted, trying to recover the air that had been knocked out me. "Seriously? Unfair tactics."

"Sorry Jer, but it's _my_ couch now." Michael flipped onto his side to smile at me. "And as king of the couch, I say totally legal tactics were used in this takeover."

I stuck my tongue out, heaving myself back up onto my feet. "Whatever. I'm gonna check out the bedroom." Feeling Michael's gaze on me, I stepped past the T.V. and opened the door beside it.

The walls were the same dark wine shade, and curtains the color of molten gold covered the window. Another door off to the side probably led to a bathroom, and another T.V. hung on the wall right by the door.

It was a nice room, yeah, but I could just see one issue with it. Well, not really an issue, more like a minor question with a difficult answer. "Hey, uh, Michael?"

"Yeah?"

"We've only got one bed."

"What?" I heard a light thump and Michael walking the short distance to the bedroom, stopping just behind me. The fabric of his hoodie brushed against my back and I could hear him breathing. My face started to heat up. _Fuck, no, not here, not now._ "Hmm. That's fine, I can just sleep on the couch. Problem solved!"

The warmth immediately disappeared as I turned to face Michael incredulously. "What?! No!"

Michael looked a bit taken aback. "No?"

"No, I'll take the couch." I walked back into the living room, Michael following. "It was your idea we do this; you _played_ for us to be here! I haven't done anything, so _I'll_ sleep on the couch."

"Dude, no."

"Yes."

"But I—" Michael stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This'll go on forever, won't it?"

"Probably."

Michael craned his neck and took another glance at the bedroom. "You know what? The bed looks big enough. How about we share for tonight, and if you're still uncomfortable, then we can figure something else out?"

"Um..." I argued with myself, trying to think clearly. _It'll be fine._

 _No, it won't!_

 _Yes, it will! This is Michael._

 _Exactly! This is_ Michael _!_

"Jeremy?" Michael's voice snapped me back to reality. "You ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, let's do it," I agreed quickly. "Just, ah, no homo, right dude?" I punched him jokingly on the arm, grinning.

Something flashed across Michael's face. Had he not been my best friend, it would've been barely noticeable. But he smiled back and nodded. "Yeah, no homo, bro. I'm gonna go to the store and grab some food for dinner while it's still light out." He walked to the door, grabbing his keys as he went. "You want anything in particular?"

"Uh, no, no I'm good."

"Okay. See you."

"See ya." I watched confusedly as Michael waved a quick goodbye and shut the door.

That was the second time in two days that Michael hadn't seemed himself. Could it have been something I said, or did? _No, Michael's my best friend. I trust he would tell me if I was doing something wrong._

With that in mind, I grabbed my suitcase and pulled it into the bedroom to unpack my game console and get AotD going. Time to get some practice in.


End file.
